


Everyone Lives

by quigonejinn



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Chuck Lives, Femdom, Fisting, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-04
Updated: 2013-10-04
Packaged: 2017-12-28 09:44:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/990566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quigonejinn/pseuds/quigonejinn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>It’s a victory tour, so the hotels are expensive, and the windows shut out most of the sound from the street below. </i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Everyone Lives

**Author's Note:**

> If you'd told me six months ago, I'd be writing kinky polyamory everyone lives fluff porn, I would have laughed STRAIGHT IN YOUR FACE. My only excuse is that people actually die and are going to stay dead in Pacific Rim, and they can't even kill Happy in MCU?

Everyone lives, and when they run Stacker through the tests afterwards, medical spends a lot of time checking, re-checking, and then re-hinging their jaws. ”You’re cured,” the three doctors say, showing Stacker where the vascular degeneration has reversed itself. ”We don’t know how. We don’t know why.”

Stacker waits for the nosebleeds to come back. They don’t. When he tells Mako, she stares at him for a long time, then starts crying. Stacker doesn’t know what to do, either. He puts his arm around her and listens to Mako sob in relief. 

…

Everyone lives, and Mako tells Raleigh one night, when they’re lying in bed, TV on and showing something in — Dutch, maybe? Raleigh isn’t entirely sure what city they’re in anymore, and the volume is turned down low.

Dinner was room service; they’re both going a little stir-crazy from the combination of lack of exercise besides what they can get on a treadmill or elliptical and lack of fresh air and lack of anything besides answering the same seven questions over and over and over. It’s a victory tour, so the hotels are expensive, and the windows shut out most of the sound from the street below. 

Mako is on her back; Raleigh is on top of her. They’re kissing, which they’ve done before. Raleigh slides his hand up Mako’s shirt, which he’s done before. Her hand is south of the waistband of his sweatpants, which she’s done before, but this time Raleigh isn’t wearing underwear and —

Mako pulls her hand away.

"Raleigh," she says, softly. "You should know something." 

…

Everyone lives. Mako and Raleigh are on one branch of the victory tour, but they meet the Hansens in New York City for an address that Stacker is giving to the United Nations. At nine o’ clock the night before, Raleigh finds himself in a hotel room three blocks from the Hudson. There’s Johnny Walker in his stomach and plenty more of it by his hand; on walking into the room, Chuck had a slug straight from the bottle, then started pacing up and down the room by the windows. Up and forth. Back and down. He makes sure the curtains are drawn. Checks them. Re-draws them. 

Raleigh stays in an armchair and drinks from a tumbler. Neither of them says a word to the other; neither of them looks at each other. The closest Chuck ever gets to Raleigh is just close enough to grab the bottle of Scotch, take another shot, and go back to his side of the room, and eventually, Mako comes. She apologizes for being late. Traffic in mid-town. She and Stacker were meeting with the US congressional representatives, she explains while unclipping her earrings, taking off her watch, stepping out of her pumps. They were talking about future funding for the PPDC. 

Raleigh, at this point, looks over quick at Chuck. Chuck shrugs, as if to say you actually want to be there for those meetings?

Mako is, at this point, out of her earrings and watch and shoes. She is still wearing the charcoal gray suit and white blouse, and she keeps on talking about the meeting, crisp and clear, while she goes into the bathroom. Her voice echoes oddly off the tiled walls in there, and she comes out with a white towel in her hands — opens the door to hang the DO NOT DISTURB SIGN out on the door knob, closes the door, then rolls up the towel and slides it between the door and bottom of the floor. 

Then, she disappears back into the bathroom and shuts the door.

Chuck looks Raleigh. Raleigh looks back at Chuck. Chuck gets undressed, yanking his shoes off, then putting his jacket on the back of the other armchair. Pants. Undershirt. Underwear. Socks. Neat and folded, like you’d expect for a boy raised by a military pilot father. Chuck keeps his back to Raleigh as long as he can, but then Mako comes out of the bathroom, and the sound Raleigh makes gets Chuck to turn around — Mako is barefoot, wearing black bra, black underwear, and she steps up close to Chuck. He puts one hand on her right hip, the other behind her head. He’s tall, broad, heavy in the shoulders, and the kiss is long and slow. More tender than Raleigh expected, from what Mako told him about how she and Chuck work.

Then, Mako steps away, and Raleigh sees the way Chuck closes his eyes for a moment, then breathes out. Eyes still closed, he leans a little towards Mako, mouth open for another kiss, but she leans away. 

"Remember the rule, Chuck," she says, and she waits until Chuck’s eyes are open again before the next part. 

”On the bed,” she says. ”Put your hands on the headboard.” 

Chuck does, and Raleigh realizes, blinking, just how turned on Chuck is already, half-hard already and breathing fast. Chuck looks over his shoulder while Mako goes to her purse, set down by where she left her earrings and watch and shoes. She comes back with a bottle of lube and some plastic gloves, and what Mako had told Raleigh was that she topped Chuck: they did things that were technically kinky, but they’d been doing off and on with each other, mostly off, sometimes on, since they were thirteen, so that was the way it had always been with them. The first time she ever came with another person was in the Kwoon, while straddling him a hanbo at his throat and his fingers between her legs. Not entirely safe, not entirely sane, but they’d been working on things. On and off. Off and on. 

_When you came to Hong Kong, we were off_ , Raleigh remembers Mako telling him, solemnly. 

_And now it’s on again?_

_He came back,_ Mako said and touched Raleigh’s face. _We all came back._

One finger is easy. Two fingers is easy, too, and Mako spends a while with two fingers inside Chuck, pushing in, pulling out, turning her wrist a little in a way that makes his hips jerk forward every time. When he gets close to coming, though, she slows down. She puts a little more lube on her fingers. 

"Keep your legs apart," she says, and Raleigh watches Chuck spread his knees wide. Then, Mako puts three fingers in. To let him know that she appreciates him keeping his thighs apart like that, she starts jerking Chuck off, slowly, lightly, using a little bit of lube, but mostly running her fingers over his foreskin and down the shaft. 

"Can you take four, Chuck?" she asks, and Chuck makes an incoherent noise, so Mako fits four fingers into him, working slowly, adding plenty more of the lube. When she gets four in him, all the way up to where her fingers meet her palm, Chuck starts making noises in his throat, low and gasping, like a man who is coming to the end of his endurance after a long race. His back is flushed; his face is twisted into the pillows, but his hands grip the headboard. Mako takes her hand away from Chuck’s dick, but leans forward, as far as she can with four fingers inside him, and she asks whether he can take her whole hand. If he comes with five fingers inside him, she’ll let him watch Raleigh fuck her. 

The noise Chuck makes at that point — it’s so loud that Raleigh understands why Mako stuffed a towel under the door. 

"Do you want that?" Mako says.

Chuck makes a noise into the pillow. 

Mako does something with her wrist that makes Chuck shout again, even though her fingers aren’t all the way in. Shoulders trembling, he twists his face out of the pillows, but towards the windows. 

"Look at Raleigh," Mako says, gently. "Let him know what you want."

Chuck struggles up a little, then turns his face towards Raleigh, who — who doesn’t know what he thinks. Chuck’s face is red; his mouth is wet, and his eyes are wide. Raleigh doesn’t even know if Chuck can even see him, the expression on Chuck’s face is so — different from the way he usually looks. The kinkiest thing Raleigh has done up to this point, in his life, was what he did that girlfriend back in Long Beach who didn’t mind putting a finger up his ass while she blew him. Maybe the handjobs he used to trade with that junior on the basketball team with him in high school.

Right now, though, Raleigh is in a hotel room. Chuck Hansen has four fingers of Mako’s hand inside him, and Mako is making him tell Raleigh that he wants a fifth, and —

Chuck licks his lips, and Chuck isn’t nearly hard as he was before, but Raleigh has no doubt what the answer is going to be — he can see the look on Chuck’s face, the way his back flexes when Mako pushes into him, the noise Chuck makes every time she pulls her fingers back out, both glad and in pain. 

"Yes," Chuck says, thickly, but clearly enough that everyone in the room can understand. 

"Good boy," Mako says, touching the small of his back with the hand she doesn’t have in the glove.

Then, she reaches for the lube again.

Raleigh watches her smear what looks like half the bottle on first her thumb, then the rest of her gloved hand, all the way up to the wrist.


End file.
